












LIBRAR 


I UNITED ST. 


ITES OF A31 ERICA. 















































































































































































































































































































PERSONAL NARRATIVES 


Battles of the Rebellion 

No. 4. 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA 


Loss of the Ieoh-Glad Monitor- 


FRANK B. BUTTS. 




PERSONAL NARRATIVES 


OF THE 


Battles of the Rebellion, 


BEING 


PAPERS READ BEFORE THE 

RHODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 

O 

HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 

No. 4. 


“ Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, 
Et quorum pars magna fui .” 



PROVIDENCE: 
SIDNEY S. RIDER. 

1878. 


Copyright by 

SIDNEY S. RIDE It. 
1 S 7 8. 


PRINTED BY PROVIDENCE PRESS COMPANY, 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA 


AND THE 


Loss of the Iron-glad 



t.y 


/ 


FRANK B. BUTTS, 

(Late Paymaster's Clerk, United States Navy.) 


♦ 



PROVIDENCE: 
SIDNEY S. RIDER. 

1878. 







Copyright 
SIDNEY S. 

1878. 


k 5T5- 


by 

RIDER. 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA 


AND THE 

LOSS OF THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR. 


About the first of November, or late in October, 
1862, while I was stationed at Washington Navy 
Yard, a call was made for volunteers to add to the 
crew of the new Ericsson iron-clad steamer Monitor. 
I had then been in the naval service about two 
months, one of which was spent on board the receiv¬ 
ing ship North Carolina at Brooklyn Navy Yard, 
and one at Washington Navy l^ard, where I occu¬ 
pied a very pleasant position as clerk in the com¬ 
mandant’s office. The Monitor had already immor¬ 
talized herself in history, and thinking I might pos¬ 
sibly share in some future glory, I offered myself, as 
did no less than two hundred others, and sixteen 
men besides myself were selected. We were taken 



6 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND T1IE 


on board the Monitor, when, after another inspec¬ 
tion, seven of the number were selected, including 
myself, who, for our personal appearance or some 
other reason, were called out and allowed to stay on 
board, while the others very sorrowfully returned to 
their quarters in the Yard. At first I thought my¬ 
self quite fortunate to secure such a vessel, but I 
soon changed my mind and joined in the opinion of 
the rest of the crew, that a Monitor was the worst 
craft for a man to live aboard that ever floated upon 
water. The Monitor, compared with turreted ves¬ 
sels that have been launched since, was a very dimin¬ 
utive and imperfect vessel. 

The sixth of November, when everything had 
been made perfect about the vessel and machinery, 
we hauled out from the Navy Yard into the Potomac 
river, and in a few hours were steaming towards the 
south. The first night we anchored at the mouth of 
the river, and the following day, after a pleasant sail 
down the Chesapeake, we arrived, amidst a salute, 
at Hampton Roads, and came to anchor off Newport 
News. The life of a sailor on board this vessel was 
the most laborious of any in the service. Their 


LOSS OF TIIE IKON-CLAD MONITOR. 


7 


quarters were small, there being only fourteen inches 
allowed for each hammock, while underneath, or 
perhaps over their heads, were the separate engines 
for working the extra attachments to the vessel, 
and a man was rarely allowed to sit a moment on 
the berth deck, even if he had the leisure. The 
deck of the vessel, as is well known, was nearly 
even with the water,— along the sides it was only 
twelve inches above the surface,— and the ordinary 
waves in that locality would sweep the whole width 
of the vessel. I will venture to say that my feet 
were not dry once in the whole time I was on board 
the Monitor. 

We did not expect that our lives were to be spent 
at Hampton Roads. The Merrimack had been blown 
up by the rebels themselves, the new iron-clads, 
part of which were then in commission, began to 
arrive, the Army of the Potomac was on the march 
to Fredericksburg, Richmond could not be ap¬ 
proached by water, and it seemed as if the work 
planned for us must be further south. We soon no¬ 
ticed that preparations were going on in which we 
were expected to be prominent, and we changed an- 


8 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND THE 


chorage to Fortress Monroe. Here we took in a full 
supply of coal, and several tons of shot and shell. 
I was quite cheerful over the prospect of being called 
into action, more so because I knew there were 
eleven inches of iron plates to keep off the sharp¬ 
shooters’ bullets, and as the Monitor had proved 
herself impregnable to any artillery then in use, I 
thought our side would have the advantage in a good 
fair fight. Orders were in the hands of our Captain, 
Commander Bankhead, to proceed to Charleston, 
South Carolina. There was no definite time men¬ 
tioned for us to start, as the Navy Department had 
left it to the judgment of more experienced naviga¬ 
tors to select favorable weather. For several days 
there had been a storm, and not until the morning of 
the twenty-ninth of December did indications seem 
favorable. 

At daybreak we hove short our anchor, and at ten 
o’clock in the forenoon got under way. The Rhode 
Island, a powerful side-wheeled steamer, was to be 
our convoy, and to hasten our speed took us in tow 
with two long twelve-inch hawsers. The weather 
was heavy, with dark, stormy-looking clouds and a 


LOSS OF THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR. 


9 


westerly wind. We passed out of the Roads and 
rounded Cape Henry, with but little change in the 
weather up to the next day at noon, when the wind 
shifted to the south-south-west and increased to a 
gale. It was my trick at the lee wheel at twelve 
o’clock, and being a good hand I was kept there. 
At dark we were about seventy miles at sea, and 
directly off Cape Hatteras. The sea rolled high and 
pitched together in that peculiar manner only seen 
at Hatteras. The Rhode Island steamed slowly and 
steadily ahead. The sea rolled over us as if our 
vessel were a rock in the ocean only a few inches 
above the w r ater, and men who stood abaft on the 
deck of the Rhode Island have told me that we were 
thought several times to have gone down. It seemed 
that for minutes we were out of sight, as the heavy 
seas entirely submerged the vessel. I had been sta¬ 
tioned at the wheel, which had been temporarily 
rigged on top of the turret, and where most of the 
officers were. I heard their remarks, and watched 
closely the movements of the vessel, so that I ex¬ 
actly understood our condition. This going to sea 
in an iron-clad I began to think would be the last I 


10 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND THE 


should volunteer for, and I remembered what I had 
been taught in the service, that a man always got 
into a muss if he volunteered, (and in my experi¬ 
ence the saying was true). All the officers except 
those on duty in the engine-room were now on the 
turret. We made very heavy weather, riding one 
huge wave, and, being heavier than a wooden ship, 
with no hold for the water to raise her, plunging 
through the next, and splashing down upon another 
with a shock that would sometimes take us off our 
feet, while the next would sweep over us and break 
far above the turret, and if we had not been protec- 
ed by a rifle armor we would have been washed 
away. The water had for some time been running 
down through the coal bunkers, and it is my opinion 
that some of the covers on deck were removed by 
the heavy seas, although it has been reported that 
the side plates had sprung apart. • It was then about 
eight o’clock in the evening, and it was reported that 
the coal was too wet to keep up steam, which had 
now run down from its usual pressure of eighty 
pounds to twenty. The water in the vessel was 
gaining rapidly over the small pumps, which had 


LOSS OF THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR. 


11 


been working, and I heard the Captain order the 
Chief Engineer to start the main pump, a very pow¬ 
erful one of new invention, which was done, as I 
saw a stream of water eight inches in diameter 
spouting up from beneath the waves. 

Signals of distress were burned to the Rhode 
Island. She lay to, and we rode the sea more com¬ 
fortably. The Rhode Island was obliged to turn 
slowly ahead to keep from drifting upon us and pre¬ 
vent the tow-lines from being caught in her wheels. 
At one time when she drifted close alongside, our 
Captain shouted through his trumpet that we were 
sinking and to send their boats. The Monitor 
steamed ahead again with renewed difficulties, and I 
was ordered to leave the wheel and w^as kept em¬ 
ployed as messenger by the Captain. The Chief 
Engineer reported the coal too wet to keep up steam 
and work both pump and the main engine. The tow 
lines were ordered to be cut, and I saw a man in 
attempting to obey the order swept from the deck 
and carried by a heavy sea leeward and out of sight 
in a moment. Our daring boatswain’s mate then 
succeeded in reaching the bows of the vessel, and I 


12 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND THE 


saw him swept by a heavy sea far away into the 
darkness, only to hear his voice once say "Farewell.” 

Our anchor was let go with all the cable, and 
struck bottom in about sixty fathoms of water. The 
fires were dull. The small pumps were choked up 
with water, and the main pump had almost stopped 
working. This was reported to the Captain, and I 
was ordered to see if there was any water in the 
wardroom. This was the first time I had been below 
the berth deck. I went forward, and saw the water 
running in through the hawse-pipe, an eight inch 
hole, at full force. Around the sides, where the 
hull had broken from the deck, there were several 
openings where the water poured in in large streams. 
The deck projected, in a shelf-like form, fifteen feet 
forward and aft and eight feet on the sides, with a 
heavy six-inch iron plating extending four feet below 
the water, and the weight of the vessel, aided by the 
tremendous force of the heavy seas striking between 
them, had caused this separation, and this particular 
defect in the Monitor build was the cause of the 
disaster. 

I reported my observations, and at the same time 


LOSS OF THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR. 


13 


heard the Chief Engineer report that the water had 
gained very rapidly. The Captain ordered him to 
stop the main engine and turn all steam on the 
pumps, which I noticed soon worked again, and I 
felt somewhat encouraged. The clouds now began 
to separate and a moon of about half size beamed 
out upon the sea, and the Rhode Island, now a mile 
away, became visible. Signals were being exchanged 
and I felt that all would be saved, or at least that the 
Captain would not leave his ship until there was no 
hope of saving her. I was sent below again to see 
how the water stood in the wardroom. I went for¬ 
ward to the cabin and found the water just above the 
soles of my shoes, which indicated that there must 
be three or four feet in the vessel. I reported the 
same to the Captain, and all hands were set to bail¬ 
ing,— bailing out the ocean, as it seemed to be,—but 
the object was to employ the men and keep down the 
excitement. I kept employed most of the time tak¬ 
ing the buckets from through the hatchway on top 
of the turret. They seldom would have more than 
a pint of water in them, the balance having been 
spilled out in passing from one to another. 

2 


14 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND THE 


The weather was clear but the sea did not cease 
rolling in the least, and the Rhode Island, with the 
tow lines wound up in her wheel, was rolling at the 
mercy of the sea, and came washing against our 
sides. A boat that had been lowered was caught 
between the vessels and sunk. Some of our seamen 
bravely leaped down on deck to guard our sides, 
and lines were thrown to them from the deck of the 
Rhode Island, which now lay her whole length 
against us, floating off astern, but not a man would 
be the first to leave his ship although the Captain 
ordered them to do so. I was again sent to examine 
the water in the wardroom, which I found to be more 
than two feet above the deck, and I think I was the 
last to look on a young engineer who lay seasick in 
his bunk, apparently watching the water as it grew 
deeper and deeper, and conscious what his fate must 
be. He called me as I passed his door, and asked 
if the pumps were working. I replied that the}’' 
were. "Is there any hope?” he asked, and feeling 
a little moved at the scene, knowing certainly what 
must be his end, and the darkness that stared at us 
all, I replied, "As long as there is life there is hope.” 



LOSS OF THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR. 


15 


"Hope and hang on when you are wrecked,” is an 
old saying among sailors. I left the wardroom, and 
learned that the water had gained so as to choke up 
the main pump. As I was crossing the berth deck 
I heard the cabin cook, an old African negro, who 
was more excited himself than any one else, giving 
some very consoling lessons to the landsmen, who 
looked like death with seasickness, in a manner that 
many of you may have seen men display on such 
occasions. He congratulated them for being in a 
metallic coffin, and that the devil would surely pick 
their bones as no shark could penetrate their graves, 
and made other startling remarks, not spoken in so 
mild a way, and too wicked to be remembered. 

As I ascended the turret ladder the sea broke over 
the ship and came pouring down the hatchway with 
so much force that it took me off my feet, and at the 
same time the steam broke from the boiler-room, as 
the water had reached the tires, and for an instant I 
seemed to realize that we had gone down. Our fires 
were out and I heard them blowing the water out of 
the boilers. I reported my observations to the Cap¬ 
tain, and at the same time saw a boat alongside. 


16 


MY FIIIST CIIUISE AT SEA AND THE 


The Captain gave orders for the men to leave the 
ship, and fifteen, all of whom were seamen and men 
whom I had placed my confidence upon, were the 
ones who crowded this, the first boat to leave the 
ship. I was disgusted at witnessing the scramble, 
and not feeling in the least alarmed about myself, 
resolved that I, an "old haymaker,” as landsmen are 
called, would stick to the ship as long as my officers. 
I saw three of these men swept from the deck and 
carried leeward to find their graves beneath the 
angry sea. 

Bailing was again resumed. I occupied the turret 
all alone, and passed buckets from the lower hatch¬ 
way to the man on top of the turret. I took oft* my 
coat—one that I had received from home only a few 
days previous, (I could not feel that our noble little 
ship was yet lost,) —and rolling it up with my boots, 
drew the tompiou from one of the guns, placed them 
inside and returned the tompion. We had a black 
cat on board, which then sat on the breech of one of 
the guns, howling one of those hoarse and solemn 
tunes which no one can appreciate, unless filled with 
the superstitions which I had been taught by the 


LOSS OF THE IKON-CLAD MONITOR. 


17 


sailors who were afraid to kill a cat. I would 
almost as soon have touched a ghost, but I caught 
her and placing her in another gun, replaced the 
wad and tompion, but could still hear that dis¬ 
tressing yeowl. As I raised my last bucket to the 
upper hatchway no one was there to take it. I 
scrambled up the ladder and found that we below 
had been deserted. I shouted to those on the berth 
deck to " Come up—the officers have left the ship 
and a boat is alongside.” 

As I reached the top of the turret I saw a boat 
made fast on the weather quarter filled with men, 
and three were standing on deck trying to get on 
board. One man was floating leeward, shouting in 
vain for help, another, who hurriedly passed me and 
jumped down from the turret, was swept off’ by a 
breaking wave and never arose, even to say, " Save 
me.” I was excited, feeling that it was the only 
chance to be saved. I made fast a loose line to one 
of the stanchions and let myself down from the tur¬ 
ret, the ladder having been washed away. The mo¬ 
ment I struck the deck the sea broke over the decks 
and swept me as I had seen it sweep my shipmates. 


18 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND THE 


I grasped one of the smoke stack braces and, hand¬ 
over-hand, ascended to keep my head above water, 
and it required all my strength to keep the sea from 
tearing me away. As it swept from the vessel I 
found myself dangling in the air hearly at the top of 
the smoke stack. I let fall, and succeeded in reach¬ 
ing the ridge rope that encircled the deck by means 
of short stanchions, and to which the boat was at¬ 
tached. The sea again broke over us, lifting me 
heels upward as I still clung to the ridge rope. I 
thought I had nearly measured the depth of the 
ocean, when I felt the turn, and as my head rose 
above the water I spouted up, it seemed, more than 
a gallon of water that had found its way into my 
lungs. I was then about twenty feet from the other 
men, whom I found to be the Captain and one seaman 
—the other had been washed overboard and was now 
struggling in the water. The men in the boat were 
pushing back on their oars to keep the boat from 
being washed on to the Monitor’s deck, so that the 
boat had to be hauled in by the painter about ten or 
twelve feet. The First Lieutenant and other officers 
in the boat were shouting, "Is the Captain on board?” 


LOSS OF TIIE IKON-CLAD MONITOR. 19 

and with severe struggles to have our voices heard 
above the roar of the wind and sea, we were shout¬ 
ing "No,” and trying to haul in the boat, which we 
at last succeeded in doing. Then the Captain, ever 
caring for his men, requested us to get in, but we 
both, in the same voice, told him to get in first. 
The moment he was over the bows of the boat the 
Lieutenant cried, "Cut the painter! cut the paint¬ 
er!” I thought, "Now or lost,” and in less time 
than I can explain it, exerting my strength beyond 
imagination, I hauled in the boat, sprang, caught on 
the gunwale, was pulled into the boat with a boat¬ 
hook in the hands of one of the men, and took my 
seat with one of the oarsmen. The other man, 
named Joice, managed to get into the boat in some 
way, I cannot tell how, and he was the last man 
saved from that ill-fated ship. As we were cut loose 
I saw several men standing on top of the turret, ap¬ 
parently afraid to venture down upon deck, and it 
may have been that they saw others washed over¬ 
board while I was getting into the boat, which caused 
their fear. 

We reached the Rhode Island, which had drifted 


20 


MY FIKST CRUISE AT SEA AKD THE 


perhaps two miles leeward, after a fearful and dan¬ 
gerous passage over the frantic seas, and came along¬ 
side under the lee bows, where the first boat that had 
left the Monitor, nearly an hour before, had just dis¬ 
charged its men. We found that getting on board 
the Rhode Island was a harder task than getting 
from the Monitor. We were carried by the sea from 
stem to stern, for to make fast would have been fatal, 
and the boat bounded against the ship’s sides ; some¬ 
times it was below the wheel, and then, on the sum¬ 
mit of a huge wave, far above the decks; then the 
two boats would crash together, and once while our 
surgeon was holding on to the rail, he lost his fin¬ 
gers by a collision which swamped the other boat. 
Lines were thrown to us from the deck of the Rhode 
Island, which were of no assistance, for not one of 
us could climb a small rope, and besides, the men 
who threw them would immediately let go their 
holds in their excitement, to throw another—which 
I found to be the case when I kept hauling in rope 
instead of climbing, and concluded, as the Irishman 
told his captain, that the end was cut off. 

It must be understood that two vessels lying 


LOSS OF THE IKON-CLAD MONITOR. 


21 


side by side, when there is any motion to the water, 
move alternately, or, in other words, one is con¬ 
stantly passing the other up or down. At one time 
when our boat was near the bows of the steamer we 
would rise upon the sea until we could touch her 
rail, and in an instant, by a very rapid descent, we 
could touch her keel. While we were thus rising 
and falling upon the sea, I caught a rope, and ris¬ 
ing with the boat, managed to reach within a foot 
or two of the rail, when a man, if there had been 
one, could easily have hauled me on board. But 
they all followed after the boat, which at that in¬ 
stant was washed astern, and I hung dangling in 
the air over the bow of the Rhode Island, with our 
Acting Master hanging to the cat-head, three or four 
feet from me, and like myself, both hands clenching 
a rope, and bawling for some one to save us. Our 
hands grew painful and all the time weaker, until I 
saw his strength give w r ay. He slipped a foot, 
caught again, and with his last prayer, "O God,” I 
saw him fall and sink to rise no more. The ship 
rolled, and rose and fell upon the sea, sometimes 
with her keel out of water, or at its surface, when 


22 


MY FIRST CRUISE AT SEA AND THE 


I was thirty feet above the sea, and with the fate 
in view that called home our much-beloved com¬ 
panion, which no one witnessed save myself, I still 
clung to the rope with aching hands, calling in vain 
for some one to save my life. But I could not be 
heard, for the wind shrieked far above my voice. 
My heart here, for the only time in my life, gave up 
hope, and home and friends were most tenderly 
thought of. While I w r as in this state, within a few 
seconds of giving up, the sea rolled forward, bring¬ 
ing with it the boat, and when I would have fallen 
into the sea, the boat was there. I can only recol¬ 
lect Hearing an old sailor say, as I fell into the bot¬ 
tom of the boat, " Where in hell did he come from?” 

When I w T as conscious of what w T as going on, no 
one had succeeded in getting out of the boat, wdiich 
then lay just forward of the wheel-house. Our Cap¬ 
tain ordered them to throw bowlines, which was im¬ 
mediately done. The second one I caught and was 
hauled on board. I assisted in helping the others 
out of the boat, when it again went back to the 
Monitor, but did not reach it, and after drifting 
about on the ocean several days it was picked up by 
a passing vessel and carried to Philadelphia. 


LOSS OF THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR. 


23 


It was now half-past twelve, the night of the thirty- 
first of December, 1862. I stood on the forecastle 
of the Rhode Island, watching the red and white 
lights that hung from the pennant staff above the 
turret, and which now and then as we would perhaps 
both rise on the sea together, beam across the dark 
and raging sea, until at last just as the moon had 
passed below the horizon, ’twas lost, and the Moni¬ 
tor, whose history is still familiar with us all, the 
victor of the first iron-clad conflict, the savior of 
our naval forces, plunged with a dying struggle at 
her treacherous foe and was seen no more. 

The following day we arrived at Hampton Roads. 
This sad news reached every household, and our 
nation wept. As near as I can now remember, there 
were thirty-three lives lost and twenty-eight saved. 















































































































































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